


Safe Sex

by allourheroes



Series: A Lot of Explaining [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Humor, Implications of Unsafe Sex, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Sex Education
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 03:47:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15699525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allourheroes/pseuds/allourheroes
Summary: Coach Finstock feels obligated to talk to Stiles about safe sex. Considering what he saw Derek and Stiles doing, Stiles gets it. (Plus: some Derek and Stiles time.)





	Safe Sex

**Author's Note:**

> Okay! Part four!
> 
> There is some accurate discussion of sex education here, but it's also sort of glossed over. Remember, kiddos, safe sex is important! Do your research! Be safe! ...Don't be like Stiles and Derek.
> 
> This also includes a reference to a tumblr post and to something Dylan O’Brien actually said about Tyler Hoechlin...

In retrospect, showing up to lacrosse practice looking like his neck (and upper body, if he’s honest) had been mauled by a particularly friendly bear (or, more accurately, wolf) after Coach caught him fucking an older guy at school less than a week before was...perhaps not Stiles’s best choice.

Stiles, however, is in a Derek haze now that he doesn’t have to hide it all the time at home and with the pack. He woke up with Derek, kissed Derek goodbye, and is about thirty minutes from crawling all over Derek again. He doesn’t think things through.

“Stilinski. My office.”

Stiles cringes. He has no idea what Coach is going to say, but it’s probably not good. He shoots Scott a look and catches Isaac watching curiously as he sucks in a deep breath and drags himself to Finstock’s office. He shifts his demeanor as soon as he knocks on the door, peeks in. If he projects annoying energy, maybe Coach will give up and let him go.

“What’s up, Coach?”

“Come in,” Finstock orders. “Sit.” Stiles starts to do as he’s told and Coach huffs and flicks his hand. “And shut the damn door.”

Wincing as he turns back so that Coach won’t see, he closes the door with a menacing click and takes a seat. He screws up his features into concern. “Everything okay?”

Finstock frowns until Stiles is forced to swallow down his fake innocence. “Stilinski,” Finstock says, then flips through his papers. Clears his throat.

“Yeah?” And his voice comes out smaller than he intends.

“We have to talk about what I saw.”

“When I missed the pass today? Yeah, sorry—”

Finstock holds up a hand. “Trust me. I don’t want to do this either. But. Well, I want you to be,” and now he looks like he’s going to be sick, his face scrunched up in pain, “ _safe_.” He looks like he’s actually swallowing down vomit.

“Coach—”

Again, the hand. “First, the chains, then the condom, then.” He shakes his hands, face contorting. “The other stuff.”

“Chains—?” Stiles starts, but then the memory hits him. “Those were for Scott,” he says, then realizes how it sounds. Finstock looks like he’s about to say he doesn’t want to know, but Stiles adds, as if it’ll help, “They weren’t for sex.”

Finstock mumbles under his breath, “Why couldn’t it have been Greenberg? I wouldn’t bother talking to Greenberg…”

Stiles fidgets in his seat, surreptitiously slides his phone from his pocket to see that he already has fifteen texts from Scott.

“How old was that guy?”

“Who?”

Coach has finally lost all semblance of cool. “The guy banging the soul out of your body in the chemistry classroom. _That guy_.”

Stiles acts like he’s mulling it over. “Just a couple years older.”

“Numbers, Stilinski. I know you know them.”

“Twenty-four,” Stiles says, then acts like the wall is really fascinating. There’s a distractingly crooked motivational poster he keeps his eye on.

“Twenty-four?” Finstock says like it’s too old but not as old as he had thought.

“Yeah. He looks like he could be thirty-five,” Stiles admits. “But in the best way, right?”

“Look, Stilinski.” Finstock coughs, but it’s for effect. “I’m not the best role model of what to do or not do and I get it. That guy looked like a marble sculpture come to life. But still.”

Finstock pulls a banana from his drawer and Stiles stutters and blanches.

“We’re going to go over safe sex practices.”

“Coach, I really don’t think we need to—”

“No, we’re doing it.” He has a condom now.

God, Stiles wants to die. Actually, Stiles would be dead if not for what Coach saw him doing, but he doesn’t think he can say that here.

Finstock tears the condom wrapper and holds up the condom. “So, first, you make sure it’s going to right direction.” He grimaces. “The condom, not the— the—” He gestures to the banana. “Although if that’s not, uh, ready—”

“I get it,” Stiles says.

“Right.” Finstock stands the banana up and begins to roll the condom onto it. “Remember to pinch the tip of the condom so there’s space for the, uh, ejaculate.”

Stiles doesn’t know if he’s surprised or not that Coach didn’t say something else. This is the most professional Bobby Finstock has ever been, at least from Stiles’s experience.

“Remember that you, or your weirdly chiseled partner that I had a dream about last night”—oh, there it is, Stiles thinks, there’s the Coach he knows—“hold the condom on by the base when you’re...removing from whatever orifice. And dispose of it properly.” Finstock is _sweating_ and the banana looks oddly naked now without its latex protection.

“Put it on right. Pinch the tip. Hold the base,” Stiles summarizes, nodding. He’s amazed that Coach is trying so hard. But then again, he thinks Finstock has grown to like him. Maybe. Or maybe wants to fuck Derek; Stiles is getting some mixed messages there.

“Good.” Finstock lets out an audible sigh. Then, he’s handing over the banana and another condom. “Now you try.”

“What?”

And Finstock just shakes the banana at him until he takes it.

“I’m fine,” Stiles says, holding the banana and the condom in hopefully the least sexual way possible.

“We all know sex feels better without a condom, but I’ve seen too many teen pregnancies, Stilinski.”

Stiles chuckles. “I’m not gonna get pregnant, Coach.”

“So you say,” Finstock returns. “Let’s see you put the condom on the banana.”

“Shouldn’t you be warning me about disease?”

“That, too.”

Letting out the deepest of sighs, Stiles goes through the process under Finstock’s scrutiny. “See? I got it.” He’s definitely not going to say they never use condoms. Or that a condom would’ve prevented Derek from saving his life last week. These are not things Coach needs to ever, ever know.

“Have you talked to a counselor yet? I mean, you’re, what, sixteen?”

“Seventeen.”

Finstock waves his hand. “Whatever. And that guy was a _man_.” Again, Stiles has the distinct impression Coach is going through a bit of a sexual identity crisis over his boyfriend. “That’s something you should probably be talking about. Did he pressure you, yadda, yadda, yadda… I don’t do the emotional crap. I was young once. And I’ve seen—” Coach snaps his fingers.

“Derek,” Stiles fills in.

Finstock processes the information. “I’ve seen Derek. I get it.”

“Alright,” Stiles says. “Uh, thanks.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Can I go?”

Coach swallows, nods, then, “Wait.”

He opens the drawer in his desk again and hands over a bunch of condoms. “I took them from the health office,” he explains. Stiles doesn’t want to think about that. “You want this banana?”

Stiles starts to refuse, but doesn’t want to think about Coach eating the dick banana if he doesn’t take it. Without a word, he grabs it and heads out, continuing to ignore his texts.

~

Stiles arrives at Derek’s loft later than expected thanks to his chat with Coach Finstock.

They’re giving his dad a day off from the mental anguish, even though Stiles suspects his dad has come to like Derek quite a lot. Like. Maybe more than Stiles? But no, right?

“Here.” And he hands Derek a banana in lieu of a real greeting.

“It smells like—”

“Yeah. Coach had me practice putting condoms on it. Eat up.”

“What?” Derek turns to Stiles from his spot on the couch, glances between Stiles and the banana.

Stiles shrugs, but he’s distinctly amused. “What did you expect him to do? He walked in on you ravishing me.”

Derek flushes. “I wasn’t—”

“I know,” Stiles whines. “It was _so much_ nicer than the time in the van but he was scandalized!” Stiles frowns. “And he’s definitely into you.”

“ _What_?”

Stiles flops down next to Derek, then scooches until his head is resting in Derek’s lap. He takes the offending fruit from Derek’s hand and peels it, taking a bite. When he speaks, his mouth is still full. “Can you blame him?”

Derek glares in disgust until Stiles swallows.

“Anyway.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a handful of condoms. “Coach doesn’t want me becoming another teen pregnancy statistic.” He takes another bite of the banana and gives Derek big, pitiful puppy eyes, like Derek is going to knock him up and leave him behind.

Derek thumps him on the chest. “Don’t be an idiot,” he says. But then, “We could.” He clears his throat and Stiles isn’t sure what awkward is about to happen to him next.

“We could _what_ , Derek? This pause is making me extremely uncomfortable given the context of our conversation.” He pushes himself up to stare at Derek incredulously.

“I was going to say we could use condoms, if you want.” He swallows. “Practice safe sex.”

If anything, Stiles gapes at him more. “Yeah,” Stiles says, but his whisper edges low and dark as he leans in close. “Because you don’t like filling me up, getting your scent all over me…”

Derek groans and his eyes flash.

Stiles crawls fully onto Derek’s lap, straddles him. “That’s what I thought.” Those werewolf instincts are too strong to resist, he thinks.

“I was just—” Derek starts, but he cuts off as Stiles squirms, grabs Stiles by the hips.

Stiles grins, then takes another bite of the banana.

**Author's Note:**

> Next up: Scott talks to the twins. The twins talk to Derek.
> 
> Comments gives me life. I'm allourheroes on tumblr and if you've got any Sterek requests, [just ask](http://allourheroes.tumblr.com/ask). Thanks for reading. ♥


End file.
